Let the Beast In
by Vanillasiren
Summary: Rumple/Regina scenes from 3X06, "Ariel," from Regina's point of view. Rumple's perspective likely to follow.
1. Chapter 1

Let the Beast In

Summary: Rumple/Regina scenes from 3X06, "Ariel," from Regina's point of view. Rumple's perspective likely to follow.

She should have known she wouldn't last long with them.

Oh, but she'd tried. Gods only knew how she tried. All the speeches they made, all the time they wasted, all the unpleasant things they balked at doing – each time, she felt the bitterness rise her like bile, and the rage boil in her veins like poison. For every nasty remark she uttered to them, she swallowed a thousand far more savage words – to say nothing of simply wanting to toss a fireball at the lot of them and continue the search for Henry unencumbered. But she didn't do that, for many reasons, not the least of which was that Henry wouldn't have wanted that.

He would have been at least a little happy if he could have seen them, surely? All working together, all on the same team? Wouldn't he have been pleased with her, maybe even proud of her, at last, for once? She didn't know. She didn't know much of anything these days. She couldn't know, she could only hope.

In the meantime, she did what she was there to do. She did the dirty work while Snow whimpered and Emma held her as if they had reversed positions, as if Emma was the mother and Snow was the child. Even after all these years, even after what she did to Cora, Snow still liked to hide behind her supposed pureness, her delicate little sensibilities. It made Regina sick.

She ripped the boy's heart out. Once upon a time, that would have made her sick too. But she got past that feeling the first time she did it. Because the first time she took a heart, not only had she ripped it out, she had crushed it.

And as with too many things in her life, the first time she did it was for _him_.

And now, here she is, seeking out the Dark One once again. If Henry could see her now, he'd surely be disappointed, but she can't let that bother her. What is the old saying? Something about how it's better to beg forgiveness than ask permission? Better for Henry to be safely back with her and slightly disappointed at the means of his rescue, than for him to be in Pan's clutches while she "virtuously" continues circling the drain with Team Charming and their exercises in futility. Neal is dead and Emma is a fool. That's all there is to it.

And if she can't work with Emma's team, well, that leaves her with only one other potential ally …

But as she soon discovers, her last remaining option in Neverland is currently engaging in a foolish behavior all his own.

Belle – or at least, the illusion of Belle – is sitting there, babbling some inane tripe at Rumple so convincingly that Regina can almost understand why the besotted idiot would think she's the real thing.

_Wonderful. My day just keeps getting better and better. _Because if there's only thing more fun than having the Charmings lead her around the island in circles in their inept attempts to rescue Henry, it's watching Rumplestiltskin turn into a simpering pile of lovesickness at the mere shade of that insipid little…

_He caught her in his arms. He_ kissed her, _and it started breaking his curse._ "This means it's true love!" _she told him._

_And she was right. Damn her, she was right …_

She doesn't even remember thinking about. One minute, she is staring through the brush at them, and the next minute, she's choking the life out of "Belle."

He stammers in shock when he turns and sees her, but it doesn't spark his rage, and he doesn't try to stop her. He must know then, deep down, that this isn't his precious Belle after all. Of course, he is a great one for self-delusion, so it's a good thing she's hear to slap him in the face with reality.

By the time the Shadow is revealed, it's rather anti-climactic.

It's only afterwards that Regina realizes she's clutching Rumple's arm and has pulled him to herself. As she hastily lets go, she can only pray he's too disconcerted to comment on it.

"What is this, amateur hour?" She sneers at him. She knows love can make you stupid, but _really_, she would have expected better from the Dark One. If she had pulled a stunt like this back when she was his student, he would have …

"_I'm afraid I'm going to have to punish you, dearie."_

_Her heart beat faster, her skin flushed. Her palms went sweaty and her mouth went dry._

"_Are you?" She managed to get out, before he caught her up in his arms._

"_Oh yes," he whispered, nuzzling her neck. He flashed his teeth at her before their lips met. "Severely."_

"You were about to be Pan's lunch," she says out loud, working hard to keep her voice steady. _And I should know about being devoured by darkness, after all … I should have just let it happen. I hate you, Rumple. I hate you so very much. But…_

"I need you. I need Rumplestiltskin." She doesn't want to admit it, but for Henry, for her son, she can let go of her pride. He knows as well as she does that they can accomplish wonderful, terrible things when they work together.

When he talks about being ready to die, about intending to perish … Regina feels something in her sort of flutter. It's like there's some internal stumbling, some figure in her heart fumbling around in the dark trying to work the flashlight, some shifting stacks of paper threatening to tumble to the floor, too many different feelings vying for dominance at once and creating an overpowering mess. She cannot give names or voice to any of her jumbled emotions. She can only tell him that he's not dying by anyone's hand but her own.

It's the truth, of course_. I let the beast in too soon, I don't know how to live without my hand on his throat, I fight him always and still …*_

Once he agrees, a strange calm befalls her. He quickly tells her about Pandora's Box, and then it's a very simple matter to summon Ariel to do her bidding. Soon they will have exactly what they need.

"And now we wait," her former teacher says.

"And now we wait," she echoes dutifully, still retaining, deep down, a touch of the obedient, eager-to-please student she used to be.

A moment of quiet, and then:

"I suppose I should thank you," he says.

"For what?"

"Well … you may very well may have saved my life, back there, you know. With the Shadow."

Regina avoids his gaze and gives a contemptuous snort. "Don't thank me. I didn't do it for you."

"No," he says softly, "No, I don't imagine you did."

Silence smothers them then, like a blanket. Still, they remain, she remains, still by his side, and it is not lost on Regina that for all the harsh lessons she supposedly learned through her years in dealing with him, she has, in the end, done it after all: she has let the beast in again.

_*Lyrics from "Fast as You Can," by Fiona Apple_


	2. Chapter 2

Let the Beast In, Part II

Summary: Rumple/Regina scenes from 3X06, "Ariel," from Rumple's point of view.

"_I think you were lonely."_

Belle said it herself, years ago, and she was right. At the time she came into his life, he _had_ been lonely.

In fact, he had been lonely ever since the day Regina's lessons came to an end …

No. He's not going to think like that.

He is going to remember, as he has been, just how and when Belle came with him, willingly, brave and beautiful and terrifying, both in depth of her devotion and the strength of her convictions.

He had been lonely, very lonely.

He was lonely then, and he is lonely now.

So is it any wonder his mind creates the image of her here, sitting before him? He has cast her in the role of conscience. It is only appropriate, as it mirrors what she has been to him in reality: a tether to his humanity, and a voice of reason.

But now, when she starts speaking of abandoning his quest to rescue his grandson and return home to her, he knows something is terribly wrong.

And so, to see those shining eyes grow wide with fright, to her gasp out a plea for help, to watch her clutch her slender throat – it should panic him, kick him the gut, but somehow … it's doesn't.

And that's because he knows that, deep down, it's not her. It's not real.

It is the Shadow, taunting him, tricking him. What is _real_ is Regina at his side. It is _she_ who is tethering him, keeping him close. It is not Belle's gentle, caressing voice that brings him back to his senses; it is Regina's sharp tongue that cuts through the illusion to the harsh reality.

He is embarrassed. He is angered. He is annoyed.

He is grateful.

He supposes what he needs right now, after all, is someone to scoff at him, rather than believe in him blindly. Someone to push and prod and call him on his tendencies, both suicidal and selfish. And whatever else is between them, he can always count on Regina for that.

When he explains to her, or tries to explain to her, that he was prepared to die in the saving of Henry … he can't quite fathom the expression that crosses her face. If he didn't know anything better, he'd almost think the idea of him dying actually _bothered_ her somehow …

But of course, that's ridiculous. She sought out his end, just like Cora did. They had both, in their ways, pretended to care for him, but the truth was, neither of them ever did.

Belle. It is_ Belle_ who is different from the all the other women who have been in his life. It is Belle who is his true love …

But Belle is not here. Regina is. And when she tells him that he won't die by anyone's hand but her own, he finds it oddly … reassuring.

They fall into their old patterns quickly, as they always do. It is so easy, too easy, to plot with her, to scheme with her, to work together and formulate a plan. All it takes in the blowing of horn, the summoning of a mermaid, and soon, Pandora's Box will be within their grasp.

"And now we wait," he says.

"And now we wait," she echoes automatically, and he has to suppress a grin. After all these years, after all that has passed between them, his dutiful student is still in there, somewhere.

Some part of her still wants to please him.

And oh, all the ways she used to please him …

_Stop it_, he commands himself. He thinks of Belle, and the accompanying guilt effectively drowns out any lingering, inappropriate memories of his only surviving pupil.

"I suppose I should thank you," he says.

"For what?"

"Well … you may very well have saved my life, back there, you know. With the Shadow."

Regina avoids his gaze and gives a contemptuous snort. "Don't thank me. I didn't do it for you."

"No," he says softly, "No, I don't imagine you did."

She does not do anything for him, anymore. Those days when she seemed to light up in his presence, light up with wickedness, or excitement or … whatever else … those days are long gone. He must bury them, he must forget them, and he must move on.

And he will. In fact, he already has.

It's just … there's precious little to enjoy about being Neverland. And so, in some small corner of his blackened heart, he allows himself, just for a moment, to savor the feeling of standing here with her, his Regina, his wicked one, united in a common purpose: the Dark One and the Evil Queen, working together again.

Because despite everything, she has called on him once more, just as in the beginning.

"_I need you. I need Rumplestiltskin."_

She has let him in again.


End file.
